Running From You
by Miss-Savvi
Summary: A question. It was only a question. "William, how did you die?" What will Grell do when he finds out about his superior's dark and tragic past? How can William cope after he's forced to revisit events better left in his nightmares? Rating elevates.
1. The Question

Author's Note: Alright, be forewarned that this story contains lots of angst, violence, and mature themes. I'd like to thank Sorryll for helping me develop the plot…so thank you!

This is an actual story that I've planned out from begining to end, unlike my usual works...and I do not own or make any profit from Kuroshitsuji

. . .

Everything had started with a simple, four word question. Well, five really, since he started the sentence by saying Will's name.

"William~" The voice was all too familiar by now. A high pitched squeal, and the last letter of his name being drawn out. Only one person he knew did that.

"What is it that you want, Grell Sutcliffe?" Will asked without even looking up from his papers. Grell stood silently for a moment, simply watching the other man scribble down notes as though Grell wasn't there. "…Mr. Sutcliffe?" he repeated, this time lifting his gaze to the red-haired shinigami standing in front of him. Grell stared back, twirling a piece of long hair between his fingertips. "Did you come here to ask me something, or are you just going to stand there?"

"Can't I see my friend without having a question?" he sighed, seating himself in the leather chair across from Will's desk. The dark haired man could tell that this would be an instance in which Grell was not going to leave unless drastic measures were taken.

"I'm very busy, Grell." he said curtly, hoping, but doubting that a cold tone would get him to leave. Of course, it didn't. Instead, Grell made himself more comfortable, crossing his legs in an effeminate manner, and ran a hand through his hair with a drawn out sigh.

"You work too hard, Will." he stated. The comment struck Will as odd, though. The way he'd said it had been so…calm. It was not like Grell to talk like that. "You should learn to relax and have a little 'fun'~" he added with a wink, and a small laugh. Will rolled his eyes, for _that _comment was more like the Grell that he knew.

"I work the perfect amount, Mr. Sutcliffe." he muttered, going back to his notes. Part of him wondered why exactly Grell had taken a liking to him. Will was never particularly _nice _to Grell… actually he'd _never _done anything to warrant any sort of admiration from the troublemaker. So why did Sutcliffe insist on bothering him all the time? Will shook his head, and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose before he added, "It is _you _who does not work enough."

"Yes, but I'm more fun than you and we all know that." Grell replied nonchalantly. Will frowned, moving the sheet of paper he'd been writing on into a file before picking up another. Grell may have been disturbing him, but that was _not _going to stop him from getting work done…or maybe he was…

Gloved fingers grabbed the piece of paper from his hands, and Grell leaned over the desk, placing his other hand on top of the other stack of files so Will could not take another.

"Mr. Sutcliffe, please get off of my files. You're making a mess of things again." Grell leaned in closer, any consideration of personal space had gone out the window. Will felt his stomach drop as the other man pulled him forward by his necktie. "G-Grell Sutcliffe, if you please! Let go!" he said, trying to break free from the grip. It was no use, though.

"Actually, William, I _do _have a question for you." he purred, batting his eyelashes. Will pried himself away from Grell's hand at last, straightening his tie.

"And what would that be?" he snapped. Grell smiled, and tilted his eyes to the ceiling in thought. "If you don't have anything to say, then leave. I'm busy."

That was when he'd asked it.

"Will, how did you die?" The dark haired man's eyes widened in utter shock. It was almost a rule that the topic of a shinigami's death was not to be brought up. It just wasn't something to talk about. Such a thing as death was personal. Will was silent for a few moments, wondering if Grell had really asked him such a question. Eventually he found his voice,

"Mr. Sutcliffe that is hardly the appropriate topic."

"Oh come now, William, it's not that bad."

"This is not something I am going to discuss with you, Mr. Sutcliffe." Grell rolled his eyes, and rested a hand on his hip.

"How many times have I told you to address me as _miss _Sutcliffe?"

"How many times have I told _you _that you are a male, Grell?" Will muttered, grabbing for another piece of paper. His annoyance with the other man was growing exponentially.

"Does that really matter now, Will?" he paused a moment, staring his superior down. Will cleared his throat.

"The topic of my death is not something that I am going to discuss with someone like you, so drop the subject and leave, Mr. Sutcliffe." Grell stomped a high heeled foot against the marble floor, the noise echoing in the large office.

"Why not?"

"Because."

"Because _why_?"

"Sutcliffe!" It was rare for Will to raise his voice in anger, but when he did Grell was instantly quiet. The dark haired man stood, adding an even more frightening feature to the situation. There was only one other time that Grell remembered being truly afraid of Will, and that was after the Jack the Ripper case. "That is enough! You will leave my office immediately, and you are not to return unless you have a damn good reason to. Have I made myself clear?"

"Y-yes." Grell stuttered, walking to the door as fast as he could short of running.

Will returned to his desk, shaking his head as he sat down. He didn't like getting angry, for it only gave him a headache afterwards. Not only that, but now he was angry, _and _confused.

Why would Grell of all people care about his past? Then again, perhaps the fact that it was Grell who had been asking was reason enough. The shinigami knew no bounds, of that Will was sure.

"Honestly…" he muttered under his breath, finding it increasingly hard to concentrate on work now.

Will's past was something that he had not thought about in a long time. Quite frankly, it wasn't something he _wanted_ to remember.


	2. Tell Me

_Author's Note: I'm trying to update this story fairly quickly because I actually know how everything will all play out in the end as opposed to my Godchild stories. So the ending to this should be here within a few weeks at the most. No promises though. Sorry if they seem a little OOC in this chapter…I tried to avoid that but yes, if they seem OOC I apologise._

. . .

"_William, how did you die?"_

The question wracked his brain, causing a second headache on top of the one that he already had. Half of Will was wondering why he was even _thinking _about Grell's foolish question to this extent, and the other half was annoyed with him for doing so.

The air was bitter with cold as he stepped out of the door, instinctively pulling his coat tighter around him. Snow whipped at his face, a sign that an angry winter had settled in and wasn't going anywhere for quite a while.

"I'm not going to let him get to me. I have to remember that Sutcliffe is like this with _everyone_. The man knows no bounds." Will had resorted to muttering to himself as he walked home, fighting the wind that was trying to blow him off of his feet. "Just last week he was asking what kind of undergarments I wore. He only bothers me to get attention, thus he could care less about the actual answer as long as I talk to him…by remaining silent, then he'll leave me alone…I hope." Just as the last thought escaped his mouth he felt another presence. His first instinct was to turn around, but it was too late. There was a flash of red, and a pair of arms wrapping around his shoulders. Will thought he had heard a high pitched squeal coming from whatever it was that had attacked him, but he was too preoccupied with attempting to stay on his feet after the collision to notice. His attempt was in vain.

The next thing he knew, he was sprawled out on the icy street with none other than Grell laying there next to him, or rather on top of him. It took a moment for Will to piece together that the red blur had been Sutcliffe, and that he was also the reason they were both on the ground now.

"William T. Spears! It's fine to tell a lady that you're in love with her, but there are better ways to do it than this!" Grell faked shock, swooning into Will's arms. Instantly, he dropped the reaper.

"_Mr. _Sutcliffe. That is quite enough. You know very well that you were the one who attacked me." Will said, giving the other man a rough shove off of him. Grell pouted, which only annoyed him further. After all, it was hard not to think about someone when they're standing in front of you.

"What are you doing here anyway?" they both stood, Will brushing dirt off of his jacket.

"I _was _on my way home, but then there were these gentlemen standing on a street corner…they looked very frightening, so I thought that I would get you! After all, a lady needs a male escort…especially this late at night." The dark haired man rolled his eyes. "I just _knew _that you'd be here. You're always working, Will…how do you have fun when you're always working? Or maybe you have a girl whom you visit during coffee breaks?" Will was startled by the question, and by Grell who was now inching closer to him. He quickly side stepped just as the redhead was ready to throw his arms around him again.

"For your information, Grell. I work late because you insist on bothering me in the morning." he said coldly. Grell frowned, and cast his eyes downward. "And no, I do not have a girl." he felt the need to add. That was a mistake. A sharp smile crossed the other man's face, and he said,

"You prefer men then, William?"

"That is most certainly _not _what I said." he felt his face grow hot as Grell started to laugh.

"Alright, alright. Whatever you say~" Grell smiled, calming down a bit.

The wind announced itself once more, whipping mercilessly at the two who still stood there in silence. Apart from the cold, it was a beautiful night. The stars (which could not normally be seen through the fog of the city ) were fully visible, casting a bright glow upon the streets. Will looked up at the sky, enjoying the momentary silence. He had not felt at peace in quite some time, and even though the biggest annoyance he knew was standing next to him it didn't seem to matter…at least until it spoke.

"Hey Will?" golden eyes lifted from behind thick rimmed glasses to meet the other man's gaze. His voice had taken an unusually quiet turn. This surprised Will, who was unfortunately too used to the way Grell normally acted to accept that perhaps the man had a serious side.

"Yes?"

"You never did answer my question this morning." Will felt his stomach drop, and rise again in his throat.

"I thought I told you that that was not an appropriate topic." Grell sighed.

"I know…but I really am curious."

"_Why?_" he snapped, feeling his headache starting to return.

"Because…well…we're friends aren't we? Aren't friends supposed to tell each other their secrets and stuff?" the redhead asked softly. How could Will deny him when he spoke in that tone?

"How did _you _die?" he found himself saying without a second thought.

"Oh! Me? I was murdered." a cheerful grin spread across Grell's face as though they were talking over a glass of tea. Of course, they were not. Now curiosity was taking over Will too.

"Really?"

"Mhmm"

"By _who_?"

"Hmm…I really only recall…hang on…wait, aren't you supposed to be answering my question?" Grell frowned, placing a hand on his hip, "Really, William! You can't expect me to go spilling details of my life to you without getting something in return, now can you?" Will cleared his throat, annoyed with himself that he'd gotten caught up in a conversation with Grell to begin with.

"Do you really need to know?" he sighed, wrapping his coat tighter around his body.

"Yes, I do." Will took a deep breath, suddenly finding it very hard to form words.

"I-I…um…I did this…I did this to myself…" he whispered in a voice so low the other reaper didn't hear him.

"What was that?"

"I said I did this to myself!" Grell's eyes widened, and then he too found himself choking on words.

"W-Will? Are you…I mean…are you _serious?_"

"Why would I lie to you, Mr. Sutcliffe?" he said coldly, wanting nothing more than to go home and crawl under the covers to escape the cold. His ears were frozen as well as his fingertips, and he couldn't even feel his toes.

"You just don't seem like someone who would off themselves." Grell stated boldly.

"Yes…well…I did." Will turned on heel to leave only to be caught on something. He immediately turned around. That 'something' was Grell's hand which was now clutching his wrist desperately.

"_How_?"

"Oh for god sake! What do you mean _how_?"

"I mean, how did you do it?"

"That's enough. I'm not answering any more questions." he pried free of the reaper's grip, quickly walking in the opposite direction.

"Will!" his name was being called, but he kept walking, even picking up the pace a bit. "Will! Wait up! Please!" there was the sound of clacking footsteps behind him. "Will! Wai-," Grell's voice was cut off by a loud 'crash'. Will spun around to see the man on the ground, caressing his wrist with the opposite hand. Underneath him was a slick patch of unforgiving ice. Even Will could not leave him there if he was hurt…despite how much he wanted to.

"Are you alright?"

"I think so…" The dark haired man extended a hand, which Grell immediately pulled himself up off of the ground with. "Ouch…"

"Here, let me see."

"Ow! Hey! Don't touch it!"

"Well I have to in order to see if it's broken or not. Stop moving." Will seized the other man's hand a little rougher than necessary. Grell winced as his superior touched his wrist. "Can you still move your fingers?"

"Yeah."

"Ok…I think you'll be alright…" he instantly dropped Grell's hand, and resumed his walk home, this time leaving the reaper far behind him.

"Will!" at this point, after being in the freezing cold for so long, and dodging questions, Will was greatly irritated.

"What is it _now_?" he snapped, spinning round. Grell sank down a little, but took a step closer.

"Will…if you ever _do _want to tell me something…you know that you can, right?" he said in the same quiet voice he'd used earlier. Will couldn't help but wish that Grell would always use that voice instead of the high pitched whine he'd grown accustomed to. "After all, we're friends."

"Yes…well…if you really must know…then…then…I may as well show you." Grell tilted his head to the side.

"Show me?"

"My Cinematic Record."


	3. I Don't Want to Remember

Author's Note: So…enjoy chapter three? A shout-out to ayafangirl, Carmenliana, and Red Butler for reviewing both chapters! And still to Sorryll who has helped me in developing the plot.

* * *

The library was completely silent, as it should have been considering the time of night. A clock outside had just rung in half past nine. To think that Will could be at home right now in front of a nice, warm fire, while having a cup of tea before bed. Instead, he was at the Death God library looking for past records of a life that he did not wish to remember; his own.

"Here, quickly now…I'm pretty sure we're not supposed to be here this late at night." he said softly, opening the large wooden door. It creaked on it's hinges as the two shinigami stepped inside away from the cold.

Their shoes clicked loudly against the marble floors as they walked down the halls, taking multiple turns and twists until they stood outside of a large double-door. Its windows were stained glass, and above it, there was a large plaque neatly labelled "Association Records"

Will, who was now feeling quite a bit more nervous than he had been moments ago, quickly withdrew a key from his pocket. He paused at the lock, then lowered his hand.

"Grell…?"

"What're you waiting for? Open the door!" Grell squealed, grabbing for the keys. Will yanked his hand back.

"I don't want you to see this."

"We're already here…so why not?" Grell said with an unbecoming frown.

"Because I don't."

"You can't expect people to understand the reasons you give them if you don't explain things."

"What on earth does that mean, Mr. Sutcliffe?" Will said in a venomous tone.

"It means," the other man rolled his eyes, and pointed a hand to the door in front of them. "You can't dangle information in front of me like this and suddenly change your mind without at least telling me why."

"My affairs are my own business. Do not forget your place, Sutcliffe. While you may think we are friends, I am still a higher ranking than you, and, thus being the situation, do not have to respond to your questions." They stood silent for a moment, the perpetual frown never fading from William's face as Grell stared at him.

" But Will-,"

"Enough!" he turned around, finally snapping. The fear in Grell's eyes was evident as Will did something that Grell would never expect him to do in a million years. He lost control. Holding the scythe dangerously close to the reaper's neck, he spoke between clenched teeth,

"For your information, the reason I do not wish to look at my past is because it was filled with more terrible things than you can ever hope to see in your entire existence. The other reason is that _I _do not wish to look back upon such events…I've already lived that life once…I've already watched my entire world come crumbling down for a first time, and…" he fought to keep a stutter out of his voice, "and I do not wish to watch it transpire again. I don't want to think about what I've done ever again."

For once, Grell was at a loss for words. Normally he could talk his way out of anything, but now, he was speechless as his superior continued to choke back words of a painful life he'd been unfortunate enough to have lived.

"Will…?"

"What?"

Grell forced a smile, wrapping his arms around the other man's shoulders. To his surprise, Will's body was warm…though it should not come as too much of a shock. He guessed that the serious demeanour that the man constantly put up made him appear cold, even to the touch. Will simply stood, not returning the embrace, but not pulling away from it. His eyes were blank, as though his mind had drifted into another world.

"You need to tell someone…trust me, I know. You'll feel better if you do." This was a side to Grell that Will had never seen before. He furrowed an eyebrow as the redhead stepped away from him.

"How would you know."

"Hey, what have you got to lose by telling me about something as silly as your life on earth. After all, we were all human at one point, and looking back we can see that all humans are foolish. You should be able to forgive yourself after so many years…I'm sure what you did could not have been that bad." he said in a slightly cheerful tone.

"Do you want to see that badly, Grell?"

"Yes." he said without hesitation. Will withdrew the key from his pocket once more, twisting it in the doorknob.

"Honestly…I do not see _why _my past is so interesting to you but…" Grell smiled as the door opened. He could almost smell the dust in the room which had not been opened in many years.

It was more of a hallway than a room. A long area with giant shelves lining the walls. There were letters under each shelf, starting with 'aa' then, 'ab', then, 'ac'. He assumed that they were in alphabetical order by surnames. It took Grell a moment to realise that his superior was already halfway across the room, and when he did he let out a small cry.

"William!"

"Keep it down." the man shot back immediately, becoming noticeably more tense by the second. "I'm not sure if we're supposed to be in here, but since I _am_ in upper management it should not be a problem…" he said to himself than to Grell.

"Stop running away from me, then. It's all dark and creepy in here without you." he said quietly, fingers latching to the fabric of Will's coat.

"Honestly…it's not as though I _left the _room."

The dark haired man's fingers swept over the spines of the other reaper's Cinematic Records. Every so often his lips would emit a small, and thought ful 'hmm', and then he would continue searching.

Finally, after what seemed like hours to Grell, and seconds to Will, his hands brushed against the spine of a large, black book. Its spine was considerable thicker than those surrounding it, and in gold letters the name "Spears, William, T." was printed upon it. Will slid the book off of the shelf, holding it in both hands. It was far too late to turn back now, so he took a deep breath, knowing that memories of his former life would soon be flooding his mind.

. . .

This is turning out to be much longer than I'd anticipated originally, but I really wanted to include William's entire record in two chapters so if I started now it would have been far too many words. The next chapter is basically two thirds of his past, and the chapter after it will be the last third. Then the following chapter will be a conclusion. So 6 chapters total, eh?

Thanks for reviewing/reading.


	4. But I Can Never Forget

Author's Note: So finally, here it is…half of it anyway. The happy half. I promise you the next half is twice as packed with angst, now whether that is a good or bad thing is up to you to decide. I found two songs by Linkin Park that really fit this story. The first one is "Leave Out All the Rest" which is where the lyrics below are from.

. . .

_After my dreaming, I woke with this fear  
What am I leaving, when I'm done here?_

_. . . _

_When my time comes forget the wrongs that I've done  
Help me leave behind some reasons to be missed_

His hands trembled as the book remained unopened. A few moments passed before Will opened the book. Instantly strips of glowing white film surfaced from the pages. Each one of them had images dancing within them noiselessly.

"Choose one." Will said quietly, averting his eyes from the record in front of him. Grell hesitated a moment, then pointed towards one of the strips close to him.

"That one." he said. Will nodded, gently touching the picture. The other floating scenes vanished, leaving only the filmstrip that Grell had chosen. The darker haired man's eye remained away from the film that was beginning to develop. Grell looked at his superior a moment, feeling the strong urge to ask a question to break the silence, but Will beat him to it.

"Here…watch." Grell immediately focused on the strips. Slowly a picture appeared from the white haze.

A young man stood at the alter of the church, dressed in a black suit. His hair was combed back from his face, and he was smiling as he looked forward to a woman dressed in white. She walked down the aisle, flower petals falling like snow from the ceiling. Her dress trailed behind her, and though her hair was covered, one could tell that it was a dark shade of burgundy. There was a flash of light, and the next scene the two were holding hands. The man looked genuinely happy as he slipped a ring onto the woman's finger. Her face was hidden beneath the white veil of her dress, but by body language it was obvious that she too was happy.

Grell concentrated harder, and said,

"Will…is that you? I mean…how old were you?"

"…Yes, it was. I was 19 at the time." Will replied in a soft, bitter voice. "Now watch."

In another flash, the couple kissed. The woman's face was pale, and young. Her cheeks were rosy, and her green eyes glistened with tears of joy. Grell shook his head, not quite comprehending that Will could have ever looked so happy. There was a loud cheer from the crowd of people gathered at the wedding as the two, hand and hand walked down the aisle. Both smiling, completely in love with one another. Then, the film went white.

Will looked over at Grell who was still staring in confusion.

"Will…I-I don't understand…" he stuttered in a very un-Grell like way. A sad smile crossed Will's face as he touched the picture again. The next scene began to develop.

Again, a picture of Will and his new wife appeared. Behind them was a small building, wedged between two larger ones. She wore a pale blue dress with a white apron, while he wore a simple button up shirt, and pants with dirt on them. It surprised Grell to see William T. Spears, a man who was always so proper, with dirt on his pants. Not only that but his charcoal hair fell in every direction. Still, they were both smiling.

"Our first house." Will mentioned, closing his eyes briefly. "Sort of. We lived above the small flower shop that I worked at."

"What was her name?" Grell asked, still wrapping his mind around this young, rugged image of the tailored man who stood next to him now.

"Tiffany." he whispered, closing the book. The images instantly vanished, leaving the room in complete silence. He started to put it back on the shelf, clearly not wanting to look on any more, but Grell grabbed his wrist.

"I want to see." he said simply. Will shook his head, becoming annoyed with the redhead's determination now.

"No. I don't want- I don't want you to see anymore than that."

"But _why_?"

"Because I don't!" Will snapped, slapping Grell's hand away from his wrist. He re-shelved the book, but kept his fingertips on its spine. Why did it matter if someone like Grell saw his past? Grell was not his superior, nor was he his enemy…so why did he care whether or not he saw? What happened in the past had no control over the future, so why did he care? He shook his head. If only that were true.

Still, he slid the book back out, shaking fingers turning the pages. Again the filmstrips appeared.

"Will-,"

"Just…don't talk, look." he said quietly. Grell nodded, redirecting his concentration to the film once more.

For a third time the couple reappeared, only this time the woman was holding something in her arms. The young Will was looking at the small bundle, and smiling.

"Is that-,"

"Our daughter, her name was Marie." Grell's eyebrows furrowed.

"What do you mean _was_?" Will put a finger to is lips in a gesture that told Grell to stay quiet.

The next scene focused on a young girl with long, black hair. She had the same porcelain skin, and green eyes as her mother, and the same smile as her father. She was running on the beach, carrying a metal pail in her small hand. Her parents followed closely behind, father running to keep up with the surprisingly fast strides that she took, and her mother laughing as he watched him try to catch their little girl.

For a moment, Grell glanced up at the other man, noticing a strange look in his eyes. It looked like he was about to start crying at any moment now. Without thinking he lay a hand on his shoulder, surprised to find that Will was trembling.

When the father had finally caught up to his daughter, he scooped her from the ground, and tossed her playfully into the air. The little girl laughed as he caught her once more. He set her on the ground where she continued to run, spinning and laughing. Tiffany caught up with Will and lay a hand on his shoulder. He turned towards her and they kissed. Marie turned to the two, giggling. Once more, Will scooped her up into his arms, and held her close.

The image stopped on the three of them together, signalling the end of the chapter. Neither Will, nor Grell spoke for a moment.

"We didn't have much money, and the rent was seldom paid on time…but…" Will paused, closing his eyes. "That little girl was my _world. _I remember the day she was born…she never cried, or complained…she was always smiling. In my entire life…there was not one thing I loved more than our little Marie." he choked on a few of the words as he spoke.

"Will…what…what happened? " Grell asked, hesitating for just a moment. Will, with his gaze still cast at the floor did not respond. What happened next he hadn't expected.

Grell gently tilted up his chin so their eyes met. He nearly stumbled back in shock, for those green-gold orbs that were normally so emotionless now looked as though they held every feeling in the world. Fear, hurt, love, hate, sadness…everything. He did not move his hand until Will brushed it away.

"Please, Grell…" he said, forgetting the formality of 'Mr. Sutcliffe' for the moment. "I need you to understand what she meant to me before you see the rest of this…"

"…I do, Will…I can tell that she meant a lot to you."

"More than a lot…she was the only thing I lived for apart from Tiffany."

"I know." Grell said softly, wishing that he had something in his life that he'd loved as much as Will had loved his daughter.

Will brought a trembling finger to touch the picture again.

A scene much like the previous reappeared, with the three of them walking along a pier. The waves would wash over the dock, and on the film the sea certainly did look violent. Grell felt a twinge of nervousness pass over him as he watched Marie get dangerously close to the edge of the pier, looking into the waves. Will grabbed her hand, pulling her away from the water once or twice, but she would simply return, running on the slippery wooden planks. The sky above them was turning dark, almost as a warning.

Something bad was about to happen. Grell could feel it.

The film flashed, and the next thing he knew they were watching the little girl slip beneath the waves. Instantly Will had thrown his jacket off, and dived in after her. The waves crashed over the both of them, Marie still struggling to stay above water, and Will trying desperately to fight his way towards her. The current only pulled them further apart. Twice her head slipped beneath the waves, black hair clinging to her porcelain white skin. Her eyes were filled with sheer terror as another wave crashed over her.

Will was now fighting to stay afloat too, his head dipping into the water as well with each passing second. It seemed like hours that they battled the waves, both Marie and her father trapped in the violent sea. Tiffany stood on the dock, unable to do anything but watch as their little girl was swallowed by the water one last time.

The entire time, though he already knew what would happen, Grell prayed that Will would make it to her, and rescue her. He hoped that the next slide would show them happy again, that some miracle had come along and saved the two of them…but that's not what happened. Instead, the screen went black.

For a second time, silence settled over the pair. Will stood, eyes gazing forward, but his mind was elsewhere.

Before Grell had a chance to open his mouth and ask another question, the screen flooded with black…or rather, upon closer look, people wearing black.

A funeral.

Tiffany clung to Will's arm, sobbing uncontrollably against his chest. Will lay a hand on her head, gaze fixed at the casket. Though he was still breathing, it looked like he had already died, for his eyes held no light in them. His mouth was drawn into a solemn line, as the priest closed the holy book, and two men lowered the small girl into the ground; her final resting place.

"We…I was too late…" Will said almost so softly that Grell did not hear. "…If only I'd been able to swim faster…or if the current had not been so strong…or if I'd never brought her outside of the house that day!" his voice gradually rose until he shouted the last word, trying to hold back tears. "…My little Marie died because of me." Grell dug his teeth into his lower lip, not really knowing what to do. He opted for laying a hand on the other man's shoulder.

"Will…It's not…it's not your fault. You couldn't have known." He said, giving the shoulder a small squeeze. Instantly Will smacked the hand away, all the composure, and seriousness he usually possessed had faded into raw emotion, and self-hatred.

"But I should have! I was her father, I should have sensed that something was going to go wrong!" He said bitterly, digging his fingernails into his palms.

"You couldn't have known, though…" Grell said softly, rubbing his hand where the darker haired man had struck. "Will…you're not making any sense." The book snapped closed, and was immediately re-shelved for a second time. His shoes clicked against the ground as he walked away, trying to ignore Grell who was following close behind.

_Pretending  
Someone else can come and save me from myself  
I can't be who you are  
I can't be who you are_

_..._

* * *

_I think I just gave myself depression.  
Next chapter is even worse..._

_Sorry Will..._


	5. A Life Built on Lies

Author's Note/Warning: Sorry, I know I said the saddest part would be in this chapter, but it'd be far too long…so think of this as the suspense build-up for chapter 6. Yay! Then the story will end with 7 chapters and I guess 7 is a lucky number! Bah! But it's not symmetrical…I may have to add an 8th chapter or something to make it even.

"Wait!" Grell shouted after him, trying desperately to catch up with the other man. He didn't have to walk far though, for as soon as the words flew from his lips, Will snapped around.

"What is there to wait for, Grell?" he said in an equally loud tone that made Grell's stomach drop. "I already know what happens next! Do you really wish to torture me more than you already have? Forcing me to watch my little girl die all over again…reminding me that I wasn't strong enough to save her?" William's hands were clenched into fists at his sides. Grell stood silent, unsure of what to say. It felt as though his heart had been ripped out when Will had spoken like that to him. It was _never _Grell's intention to cause his friend pain. Common curiosity had driven him to asking about Will's past, and now, standing there in the Association Records Department of the Death God library…he wished that he's never asked at all. It was easy to understand now why Will never smiled, and why he was always so stoic. It made sense that he never responded to Grell's relentless flirting efforts, and why he always turned down invitations when they were offered to him. The redhead could not begin to imagine what the man in front of him must have gone through in his life.

"I'm sorry…" Grell finally whispered. "Will…I really am…" there was no response to his comment for a long while. The tension in the air was tangible, and although many questions danced on the tip of his tongue, he could not bring himself to speak them. Grell _wanted _to see more of the other man's past, but how was he supposed to ask Will to do such a thing? Finally, just as he opened his mouth to speak, Will beat him to it.

"I suppose you'd like to see the rest of the record then?"

"I ah-…yes, I would…if that's alright?" Will hardly noticed that Grell was acting as far from himself as possible. Immediately, Will turned on his heels, back towards the Association Records wing of the library.

"Follow me." he said simply. Grell did not hesitate, and was instantly behind his boss, waiting in anticipation for the second chapter of William T. Spears' life.

Once more the book opened, and the familiar scene of filmstrips hovering in the air lit up the room. Will raised a hand to touch one, but stopped halfway, and lowered his hand. Grell, who knew better by now than to ask questions, lay a hand on his friend's shoulder. For a second time, he felt the body beneath him shaking.

"I…I can't." Will said softly, but he did not shut the book as Grell had expected him to. "You do it." Grell nodded, slowly extending his index finger to touch the slide much like he'd seen his superior do before. To his (what should not have been) surprise, an image appeared on the screen. It was the young William Spears, and Tiffany…only different.

The woman's hair had turned a dusty shade of orange and lay sickly against her head. Her skin had changed from porcelain white to almost having a greyish tone as well. She was seated at a small table, staring at a tea cup in front of her as Will poured more into it. He took a seat opposite of his wife, eyes filled with concern as he grabbed for her hands which were shaking and far too thin. She cringed away from his touch, standing up, and alarmingly sending the teacup to the floor where it smashed into pieces. Tears welled into her eyes as she ran out of sight. Will shook his head, gathering the glass from the floor, and lay it atop the table before returning to where he'd been sitting.

He proceeded to hold the pieces of the shattered teacup in his hand, examining it carefully before setting it down again. Will too looked as though he had returned from hell, and in a way he had. He'd lost his little girl, his world. His skin and hair were also dishevelled and it looked as though he hadn't slept in weeks.

The clip lingered on him for a few moments, and Grell watched as the young Will crossed his fingers, buried his head in his hands, and cried. Then, the film went white.

"After Marie died…our marriage fell apart." Will whispered before selecting the next clip. He touched it, then immediately cast his gaze downward. "I never though that…we were that breakable."

The image faded into the pair arguing. Tiffany threw her hands in the air, and kept pointing her finger at the door. Will did the same. It was clear, though there was no sound, that they were both shouting. Finally, Tiffany walked away, and Will cringed as the door was slammed. The picture faded out, and immediately back into Will lying on the bed alone. Soft candle light illuminated the room, but it was blocked out by Tiffany's shadow as she stumbled into the room, tripping over her own two feet. There was a bottle of liquor clasped in her hand, and she took a long drink before tossing the bottle to the floor. Will stirred from beneath the sheets, instantly focusing his attention to his wife who was wavering hopelessly. He crawled to the end of the mattress, and reached for her thin wrist, but, like at the table, she pulled away, bent over and reached for the bottle again. After seeing this, Will reached for her hand again, trying to wrestle the liquor away from her. With her free hand she swung at him, missing by a long shot. Finally, after a few minutes of this, he released her. Tiffany flew to the ground, and hurled the bottle at Will who sidestepped her aim. The liquor hit the wall, and what was assumingly whisky poured across the wallpaper, staining it brown. For a second time the screen went white.

There was a moment of silence before Will finally spoke, though his voice was almost a whisper.

"Everyone has ways of dealing after a tragedy…and Tiffany's means of escape was liquor…but…apparently…that was not enough to numb her…soon, alcohol turned to opium, and eventually…" his mouth drew to a thin, solemn line.

"What is it?" Grell said, sounding a bit more curios than he'd have liked. Will shot him a frightening look, but it was brief, and soon the emotion faded into sadness. He hung his head for a moment, and whispered once more,

"Eventually…we ran out of money…and s-she," his voice wavered as though he were about to cry. Grell gave his hand (which was still on his boss's shoulder) a slight squeeze. Will turned to him, eyes laced with tears, and said softly,

"She began to sell her body." Grell's eyes widened.

"Bu-but _why_?" Will shook his head, brushing the red haired man's hand away.

"Addiction is a terrible thing, Grell…I've seen souls who've given everything up for drugs and alcohol…and apparently…my Tiffany was no exception." before Grell had a chance to intersect, Will had started the next clip.

Another argument. They were in the kitchen, Tiffany wavering on her feet, looking as though she was already dead. Her skin was now more grey than before, and her body was so thin it looked as though the slightest touch could break her bones. Once more, she held a bottle clasped in her hand, and she was waving it erratically in the air as she screamed at her husband. Then, Will grabbed her by the wrists, successfully stilling her for a moment. The look in his eyes could only be described as desperation. He _wanted _everything to be the way it had been before, he wanted to help Tiffany, but it was fairly clear that she did not want to help herself. The screen flashed several times, each one showing Tiffany with another man. Grell turned to look at Will who was looking away from the screen. Once again, blackness flooded the filmstrips.

"I wanted to help Tiffany, but I knew that I couldn't. _My _health was failing as well…then, one weekend…after I'd been in bed ill all day, and she'd been gone for a week…Tiffany came back. Empty handed. No bottle. No smell of opium. Just Tiffany…that's what I thought…" Will said before touching the next slide.

A rather sick Will sat up in bed as Tiffany walked through the door. She looked terrified, and sat a the foot of the bed. Will smiled, sitting up and crossing to sit beside her. She cringed away, but apart from that they looked normal. _Like it was supposed to be. Grell thought to himself. But there was something wrong. _

_Tiffany buried her head in her hands, and cried. Will gave her a concerned look, wrapping an arm around her trembling shoulder. Although there was no sound, Grell saw him mouth the words "What's wrong", eyes filled with concern. Tiffany just shook her head, and fell into his arms, sobbing. A moment passed in which they didn't say anything. Will brought his arms around his wife and she only shook more. She sat up, avoiding eye contact with him, and words formed on her lips. Will leant in closer to hear her and his eyes widened in what could only be described as complete shock. Suddenly he stood, pushing her off of him in a move that Grell had not expected. The gesture was not rough, but it proved a point that he was angry. _

T_hey stood still for a moment, William shook his head, and Grell saw the word "out" fall from his lips as he pointed a shaking finger towards the door. She stood, and slowly made her way out of the room, bringing a hand to her mouth. The young Will returned to his place on the bed, burying his head in his hands. Then, as usual, the film faded._


End file.
